


Midnight in Eden

by Judyku



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9400877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judyku/pseuds/Judyku
Summary: A deflowering on the kitchen table.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No actual plot above explicit smut, so little eyes please turn away now.

Title: **Midnight in Eden**  
Author: Me.  
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing and nobody.  
Notes: Just plain ol' smut to the point of porn.  
  
“Guy gets taste of something fresh, and he thinks he’s touching god.” ~ Darla, Angel season 2, episode Dear Boy.

Soundtrack: Marilyn Manson’s Tainted Love, which is still, to this very day, one of my all-time favourite music videos. It gives me a taste for the filthyness.

 

Xxx

 

A dark, almost deep crimson interspersed with small patches of green and not quite round in appearance, it served well to whet his appetite. He toyed with it, deft fingers turning this way and that, holding it up in the darkness of the galley for her to see.

Feet pushed his chair and the wood creaked out like a gun blast, but she didn’t flinch. Just kept sitting there at his side, apple right there at her mouth, just waiting calmly, and make no mistake she knew. Her pretty lil nightgown said what her mouth didn’t.

Course she knew his intentions. Had known since the first time he didn’t bother to play the idiot boy when she walked in on him the last time, her panties in his hand and zip down. He’d held her there that night, in the spotlight of his gaze, his lil virgin witch, with her wide doe eyes and cunny all buzzed up on account of her first sight of a man.

Woulda been easy that night to have her. A bit too easy, and so he’d simply made her watch until he got off, then left her with a taste of cum on her lower lip as her pretty lil snatch quivered between her legs. He’d not had to wait long before the orgasm hit and both hands cupped and rubbed her clit raw.

It had been awhile since he shot up a hit, and he was looking to take one final fix, feed his addiction in a way that other men only got to dream about, and he looked at her. Pale skin even paler in the dim light, tumbled waves of chestnut hair and caramel eyes gone almost black, plump lips pursed into shiny pout of hodgeberry lip gloss and temptation. Her cheeks weren’t so rounded these days, more sleek, defined in the way the softness had been shaped with him in mind.

She was old enough now and he’d been patient long enough, sating himself with cheap goods and his right hand. The rest of the crew saw fit to give a damn? They were free to leave should they feel the need as to do that.

Mal slipped opened his pocket knife, stared at her, apple in his hand as the blade clicked to, dull silver and sharp. “You want, darlin’?”

“Depends.”

Of course. Had to stimulate her mind first. Gotta have her in the right place before he got her high. “On what?”

“Intent behind offered temptation. I have no need for knowledge.”

Oh, but she was good, never failed to hit her mark, and his zipper hissed quiet in the dark. Hadn’t known it was possible to get off on words until she came along. “Been awhile since I last sinned. Can’t quite recall as to how long in truth. Why don’t you remind me of that?”

“Seven weeks, five days, eight hours, and twenty-three minutes. Not so long.”

“An’ how did I sin? Must be showin’ my age tonight.”

Warm eyes slipped to the hand toying with the apple. “It was early. Nobody else was up. You had to make sure it was just a dream. That I was still able to wear white.”

Mal arched a brow at her. “I don’t like when folk try to take what’s mine. That Guild ain’t no place for you. Tell me again what you said.”

Plush lips sweet as that voice that went down his throat like cream and honey. “The Countess found virgins to be of use. She bathed in them for beauty eternal.”

His grin matched his blade. Sin aside, it had been funny as all hell seeing the reactions to _that_. “You do got a ways about you, Witch. ‘Spect you know that. Said it enough times my own self. Morbid and creepifyin’. Come. Sit.”

The table creaked a little as she moved from her chair, pert lil rear settled so as that white nightgown appeared almost powder blue on her creamed thighs. Her gaze on him, on the apple, on the knife, on his dick, her throat swallowed the spit building in her smart mouth.

Mal tapped her knee and followed the sleek dancer muscle with his palm down to the inside, down to where her pussy was mere millimeters away, sticky pre-cum in his wake. Heat radiated off her in a way that inched forward with every bitty flick of her hips that set her clit off on his fingers.

_Open those legs for me, darlin’._

Deceptively delicate thighs stretched that nightdress until the material gave way, wrinkled up to where the hem just kissed her cunny. White on shiny pink with a perfect match between collar and cuff, knees skimmed his ass with apple and knife right between.

_That’s my girl._

Mal loved the way she didn’t flinch when the silver blade bit into the apple, cold juice trickled down his forefinger and he brought it up to her mouth. Held it there just out of reach. “Want it?”

River eyed him calmly, cooly, plump girl mouth closing around the forbidden and leaving a whisper on his fingers. Focused all on him as apple juice mixed with hodgeberry, and oh, wasn’t that just the sweetest scent he’d ever inhaled. Hot earth tinged with sin and sex, a heady shot of adrenaline straight to his dick, and more came when he felt her read and glean.

_Wonder what you taste like._

He cut another slice and purposely jolted her legs wider, innuendo in motion, loved the movement in her jaw when his hand moved right there. A swish of cool fruit on cunny. He grinned wicked, sharp, the apple shone in the dark, and he winked once before he popped it into his mouth, all girl juice and apple bits. Made a show of licking his fingers, nostrils flared as he savoured the sweet tang of fresh squeezed fruit juice.

The taste hit the back of his tongue and the rush of it raced through him, left him high and dizzy from vertigo, but it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough of a shot to feed his addiction, and his veins, heart, mouth parched from thirst for more, he itched to get in her and take her to hell with him.

“Wrong fruit, Captain. Pomegranate is the key to Hades. You’ll cum at 31 miles per hour.”

“Seems to be you’re talkin’ too much, Witch.”

The kiss swapped apple and pussy, a heady and delirious combination that shot down the balloon of focus, concentration, in her, and her hands were on him. At his hips, fingers sliding his shirt up and out, nails on his stomach as he manipulated her head to the side, deeper, tongue chased tongue, hot and wet. Hair and cheeks and suspenders down, nightgown up and off, shirt opened and gone. Skin on skin, and _oh, oh_ , she was everything right there and then. All wanton and needy, hungry to have her captain between her legs.

No place for white anymore, his virgin turned whore alive and filling his neurons with the biggest hit to date. Could feel her inside, rushing through his arterial vein for a collision course with his damned heart, and weren’t a damn thing he was gonna do to stop it.

Not when he was so close to such a damned high, not when she was all over him. A virgin, a reader unable to hold back once unleashed, and nothing compared to this, to her, and he pushed her down on the table, pulled her thighs wide so he could _see_.

River was under him, throat exposed, and strawberry nipples right high on her teardrop titties, legs padlocked under his ass, dancer strength urging, encouraging, desperate. She bucked and mumbled, teeny tiny little _oh, oh ohs_ that damn near blew his mind, and crushed his balls against her wanton little snatch.

He watched as he teased and tormented, swirled the head of his cock around that tight little hole once, twice, and made her pussy blush apple red. He found her virgin tight and just as hot, stretching to fit and god, _god_ , but he couldn’t move an _inch_. Had to pull back slowly, let those deliciously velvety muscles relax, saw her shiny lil clit rasp and drag over his shaft. He waited one, two, three seconds, and he was in her, actual and whole inside her, and it was enough to make his balls rock solid.

"You're _hung."_ Made him want to laugh out loud, but he didn't because he couldn't do anything bar hold himself there, staring down at a woman with her own hands on her own self. From stomach to titties to neck, she acted out every damned thought he had, right from a brush of her lips to thumbs turning those strawberries into taut lil things that simply begged to be sucked and licked and played with till she went off on him.

Mal shook at the first flick of hips, pelvis bounced and moved in a needful rhythm he intended to keep. He went soft, easy, loosened his hips to better manipulate her into taking him deeper with every rut and thrust. She rolled with him, matched him speed for speed, her timing exact, and if he thought watching her fight was something else, then rutting her was enough to blow his damned mind.

The thought of someone else following his act made his trigger finger itch and irrational jealousy made for a volatile combination, and he put an end to it right then. This was to be no repeat of his last foray into the world of women. Made it clear where she stood because this, _she_ , was what he'd been looking for. A woman who didn't hold back, who simply acted on her instincts and needs and desires without shame. She was what he needed in life, and the hell if he was letting her go.

“Ain’t a man for you but me, darlin’.” By way of agreement, River pulled him to her, all screechy and whiny under him, hips clumsy in how they moved, and her pussy simply caved for him. A tighthotwet slip and slide that turned him bugeyed and bugfuck. He was hard and aching and smoothed into her with fluidic ease, all liquid sex that soaked his thighs, and he kept it up. Hard in and slow out, slap and rasp of skin on skin, River took everything he had and gave it right on back, hissing out _yes, yes, yes_ with every kiss to cunt and clit. 

“Oh, oh _god_ …” Her arms turned under his and wrapped tight as the first clench hit her hard. Fingers pressed into his shoulders and hair, clung to him as she creamed, all melted silk and honey sweet girlbits rocked up and up. Her ass lifted clear off the table, driven and angled to increase the depth of penetration to where he heard her beg, and damned if she wasn't aching her own self. She had to be. Weren't a woman alive who gave half of what she did to a man she had no notion of keeping.

 _My captain,_ _mineminemine_.

Every single velveteen muscle flexed and contracted, each one faster and harder until her body froze before his name came off her lips in a squeal. River glowed and laughed as she came, and caramel eyes reflected his own orgasm a split second before seven weeks worth of cum tore through his balls at 31 miles per fucking _hour._

_You got me, darlin’. All yours._

“Oh, the _hell_.” The rickety old table shook from his slammed fist as he arched, parched mouth brushed at her throat, hand fumbled down to grope and grab her ass and pulled her up until he heard the sounds he wanted. Heard himself grunt and groan, cuss and held himself still and high up just to make sure she didn’t spill a drop. His body worn out, stripped of everything once taught as proper, and he knew now, there was so shame to be had here. Two folk having what they wanted, what they deserved, and relief was as staggering as his climax, and his world went white with it.

A fair assessment, Mal thought, was to say his entire body gave up on him, and his sweaty cheek landed to the left of her right boob. His back would probably need some sort of medical attention since paralysis seemed to be the order of things. Probably a good thing since he wasn't sure how much time passed as he stayed there, wrapped in afterglow and woman love. Minutes, an hour maybe, went by as he simply lay there in stillness and dark, on top of her, heart knocking out rapid gunfire against his ribs and mouth in desperate need of water. 

Somebody, somewhere, gasped and giggled, bare feet rapidly pitter-pattered away, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care about much of anything beyond his woman. Let them look. Was his ship. He could rut anywhere he damned well chose to rut. Though his spine didn’t much agree on that.

“So _that’s_ what twenty-five percent of women fake ninety percent of the time. I did wonder.”

A wheezed laugh left his mouth desert dry. “An’ you’ll never be one of ‘em.” Mal shifted until he straightened and spine popped, lithe legs fell limp down over the edge of the table, all girlflesh soft and naked. Corruption was a good look for her. “Bunk? Where I shoulda had you in the first place. Not here like some ruttin’ animal.”

River graced him with a look that questioned his intelligence, which didn't quite work so well on account of her full body blush. “That would be why twenty-five percent of women fake ninety percent of the time. Wives are like tools, Malcolm. If you don’t look after them properly, they end up at the neighbours.”

She pushed herself up on her hands, breathless and thoroughly debauched and oh, those lil teardrop titties did things in the way they sat so pert and perfect. He was still in her when she flexed, and it was torture on his overstimulated self. Took her by surprise by the look of it, too.

“Good?” He grinned, his cock soft, but it wouldn’t take much. Not with the high going hard burn through his veins. “Kiss me, Witch. Captain’s orders.”

Her grin was wicked, sinful to the point where he wondered if he ever really knew what sin was because this wasn't hell. This was Eden. “Where?”

Mal rubbed the insides of her sticky thighs. Grinned wolfishly. "Anywhere you damned well please."

 


End file.
